Monster's Pet Monster
by RifkaMarie
Summary: Alucard and the Hellsing Organization meet a woman named Rifka, and they quickly discover that doesn't fit any category of Freak or Monster they have previously encountered.
1. Unwilling Killer

The following is a Hellsing Fan Fiction, begun by Rebecca Moyer on 05/30/05.

_**Hellsing belongs to its creator. Rifka, Markus and Jonas belong to me.**_

* * *

_It is only when you refuse to give in with all your heart that you begin to transcend your humanity. ~ Alucard_

* * *

Walter opened the door to Integra's office and announced Peter's arrival just before the officer walked in. He carried a file and a video cassette. "Sir Integra, there's been a report of another attack. They suspect it's the last faction of Freaks and would have simply opened fire, but there was a woman among them that was… different."

As always, the idea of a "different" Freak caught Integra and Walter's attention. They were always dangerous; it just needed to be determined to whom they were a threat. "In what way is she different?"

"I brought the video taken of the attack. It's the only clue we have." He slid the video into the VCR and Integra hit a button. They all turned to the screen as it crackled into focus.

It showed the attacking gang of Freaks and their Ghouls, murdering and ghouling their victims. Their leader was easily spotted as the man standing idly by and watching the carnage with a calm grin. He was a tall, attractive man, with wavy brown hair reaching to the tops of his shoulders and vivid, cobalt-blue eyes. His skin had a deep tan and his features were sharp and cunning, if not just a bit scruffy.

He was dressed casually in khaki slacks and a deep blue dress shirt under a white blazer. The blazer was open and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, showing hints of a tanned and muscular chest with a soft curl of hair at the edge.

As they watched, he turned and gave an order to the van behind him. The doors were thrown open and a woman was dragged out, thrashing and screaming. She was forced to stand beside him, held there by the Ghouls until the tall man carelessly waved a hand at them to release her.

She shook off her arms, muttering and glaring furiously, and then she straightened slowly, revealing that she was actually quite petite, only standing as tall as his shoulder. Her face was partially obscured by dark brown hair that hung to her elbows in tangled, matted tendrils. Her skin was dirty and marred with cuts and scrapes. Through her hair they could just make out her facial features; a sharp jaw and a firm chin, full lips and dark eyebrows.

When the camera zoomed in, her anger and resentment were clear in her dark brown eyes. She wore baggy clothes as dirty as the rest of her, the sleeves and legs hanging in tatters from the seams. She was oddly barefoot, and seemed to be walking on her toes like a cat. The torn sleeves on her shirt and her shredded pant legs displayed toned arms and legs, and her shoulders were broad.

Even in such a state, there was no doubt that she was attractive, but it was an eerie, edgy sort of beauty. It was as though she were a walking shadow, absorbing any light that struck her and reflecting none back.

Peter and Walter both suppressed a shiver.

Around the woman's neck was an odd metal collar, dotted here and there with small lights that blinked white at regular intervals.

"So, that's the one?" Integra questioned.

"Yes Sir."

"What's so different about her? Besides the strange outfit and collar, I see nothing."

"It's coming up, Sir."

They continued to watch and the man turned to speak to the woman. What was said couldn't be heard, but the woman's response was a blatant refusal. Her body went taut and she crouched slightly as though steeling herself for a fight.

The man rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small rectangular devise. It was palm-sized, with two buttons and a small, black dial. The woman yelled and lunged for it, but he pressed the red button. The lights on her collar turned red and she stopped short, grabbing at it. The man spoke to her calmly, slowly backing away as he gave the dial a sharp twist. The woman dropped to her knees and fangs extended from her teeth as she screamed. Her eyes began to glow red and a black stain showed on her cheek and spread over the rest of her skin. The man grinned and kicked a rock to divert her attention toward the innocent bystanders.

The woman dug her hands and feet into the ground with claws she hadn't had just seconds before. Without warning she bolted into the group of terrified men and women. Her hands tore through their bodies like paper, sparing none.

In mere moments the only people left standing were the leader, the woman, and the handful of ghouls that had stayed in the van. The man twisted the dial smartly and the light snapped off in the woman's eyes and she dropped to the bloodied ground. She panted raggedly, her fingertips twitching as her claws and fangs receded. The ghouls were ordered out and they picked her up and dragged her back to the van. The man pocketed the devise and strolled over to the van and got in behind the wheel, whistling merrily.

The camera stared at the carnage that had once been the busy Sunday market, the van driving off in the background. Integra had watched in silent rage and now she hit the table with her fists and stood up sharply. "Yes, I agree now. She _is_ different. She also appears to be quite unwilling! He controls her with that collar and it's remote!" She dialed in some commands, and the picture zoomed in on the van's license plate. "Track down that license number and get me names and addresses! I want to know who these people are, _immediately!"_

"Yes Sir!" Peter saluted and charged off.

"Can I come out to play?" Alucard's bored voice gave away the face that he'd appeared silently at some time during the viewing.

Integra was far more than just used to him popping in and out. She'd come to accept that no areas were sacred to Alucard, and she didn't even miss a beat. "Did you see enough?"

"Enough to know I should avoid shaking hands with her. Your orders, Master?" He said the title mockingly, even though Integra knew he meant it seriously.

"If she isn't a Freak, she needn't be killed."

"And if she is?"

"No hesitation."

"As you command," With a swish of his coattails Alucard turned and swept out the door.

* * *

Walter later found the monster lounging in his chamber as per his usual, but this time the creature was sitting at a table with his fingertips on his chin, contemplating several stills from the video Integra had just watched. Specifically, the introduction of the collar and its controller, and the woman's following transformation. He was staring at them with no small amount of gravity.

"Arrogance led to the downfall of every other gang we've met," Walter began, "and so it shall follow with this one. The owner of the van has been tracked down."

"What did you find?"

"The gang leader is Samuel Markus, once the right hand of the infamous Black Market trader Jonas Bentomir from Kiev, Ukraine. Bentomir was murdered last month, and Markus has since taken over, moved to London, and apparently turned to the Freak Chip to build his empire."

"And the woman is…?"

"A slave, Sir; known only as Rifka. If the rumors are right, she was Bentomir's favorite pet and he experimented on her heavily. She's supposedly severely mutated, but no one knows exactly how."

"And what can you tell me about the remote and collar?"

"Both were designed specifically for her, so there is only one of them. Pushing the red button and turning the dial clockwise makes her transform into some sort of mad beast."

"I saw a blue button also. What does it do?"

"There was no mention of a blue button."

"Interesting," Alucard got to his feet. "Do we know their location?"

"They can be found at the Ophidious Compound. Here's the address."

Alucard paused before leaving. "Do I get any special new toys?" He asked hopefully.

Walter smiled and stifled a laugh. "Unfortunately, the girl is wanted alive and the others are just the usual. What you have should be all you need."

Alucard chuckled. "It was worth a shot." He left.


	2. Appreciating Irony

The building Alucard arrived at was at the end of a long dirt road in the middle of a thick forest. It was circular and built low to the ground with no windows and a large steel door stylized with a large snake. Alucard took a moment to admire the way the snake was loosely coiled, the tail squiggling and the head angled to look out at anyone approaching the door. He passed inside easily enough, noticing he set off no alarms, and found himself standing at a three-way fork.

He stretched his mind out along the hallways, each in turn. Down the left he saw two Freaks guarding the door to a room of cells containing a myriad of animals and among them was the darkly beautiful Rifka. Her hands were shackled in heavy chains attached to the wall, and keeping her company was another woman, but she was bound, naked, and unconscious. Rifka was ignoring the body and gazing moodily at the wall.

Down the middle hallway Alucard found a large torture chamber fit for anything from simple beatings to surgical operations and all manner of death. Old skeletons still hung on the walls, their jaws hanging open in the silent screams of the dammed.

"_In the right hands, this place could be charming."_ He thought to himself with a smirk.

Down the right hallway he saw a large office, and Markus himself sitting at a desk with a fancy laptop. He then reached over to a radio and contacted his men outside the cells and inquired about Rifka. He frowned when he was told she wasn't feeding and got up to investigate. Alucard melted into the shadows.

"You have company coming." He whispered in Rifka's ear. She looked around sharply in surprise, and then her eyes narrowed.

Markus walked up to the door of her cell and looked in through the barred window. "Is she not your type, Love?"

"Not in any manner." Was her tart reply.

"You'll have to tell me what you prefer, Darling. You have to feed to keep your strength up!"

Rifka gritted her teeth angrily, turning her face away with scorn. "Idiot; If Bentomir didn't tell you, I won't either! He obviously wanted to keep you from fucking with me, and since you've killed him, you'll never know _anything!"_

Markus' face darkened with rage. He withdrew the controller from his pocket and wagged it threateningly. She eyed it closely. "I could make you beg me to fuck you."

Her eyes remained on the controller, but there was no less venom in her tone when she responded. "Go. Fuck. Your. _Self_."

Markus growled and jabbed the red button furiously. The lights on Rifka's collar turned red and she seized up against the wall with a shriek of rage and pain, choking and clawing at her neck. She began to thrash and buck as he turned the dial slightly, cursing at him even as he turned and walked off.

It wasn't until he'd left the room that the collar shut off. She slumped limply on the floor, gasping for air and unable to move. "Bastard! I'll… kill you…!"

"That could be difficult to accomplish, with you all locked up and at his mercy."

Rifka opened her eyes. A strange man in a long red coat and a pair of yellow-tinted glasses was standing over her. He had long, loose-flowing black hair and a terrible grin that showed many sharp teeth. She frowned up at him. "Who are you?"

"You've been cooped up in here for a long time, haven't you?" She nodded slowly, so he continued. "I'm Alucard, of the Hellsing Organization."

"You're the Freak Hunter? You're real? Markus has been talking about you a lot since he got his chip." She tried to move and groaned with the strain, producing a feeble twitch. "I don't have a chip. Bentomir didn't make Freaks. He liked animals."

"So what _did_ he make you?"

"He made me a jaguar."

"That explains why you haven't touched your dinner."

Rifka ignored his comment pointedly. "I was supposed to be his bodyguard, but I became too independent. Just like a cat, right? Which is really funny, right? Well, as it turned out, Bentomir didn't appreciate the irony. He had his scientists design this collar to control me, and what do you know? The fucking thing works!"

Alucard chuckled a little, looking down at her with his creepy grin. "You're feisty! Tell me about the remote."

"It's wired to the collar to send electricity into my nerves. Bentomir learned pretty fast that overloading me with pain made me transform and go mad. He used me to kill people for him, and now Markus uses me."

"What does the other button do?"

"I guess it was supposed to reward me for good behavior, but they've never used it, so I don't know what it does."

"So, you're a naughty kitty, hmmm?"

Rifka rolled her eyes and grunted. She flexed again and this time her hand curled. "I just don't want to be _here_. Markus is careful to keep a good distance from me or I'd have gotten the remote away from him a long time ago."

"That's why I'm here."

She blinked. "You're here to kill him?"

"Yes."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're not the kind of man I want to owe, are you?"

Alucard treated her to his creepy grin again. "Most people don't refer to me as a man at all."

"It's still better than being Markus' slave."

"You really think so?"

She growled low in her throat, slowly forcing her tortured body to roll over so she could push up onto her hands and knees. "What are you still standing around for? Go kill that bastard!"

Alucard cackled appreciatively and melted into the shadows again.

Out in the hall, Markus stopped and turned to his guards. "Take her to the chamber," he ordered them, "I'll be along to deal with her." The men nodded and entered the cell, unhooking Rifka's chains from the wall and dragging her out. She struggled angrily and the guards stumbled, but with a minor push of a button she was limp and helpless once again. The guards dragged her into the chamber without further problems.

Markus nodded to himself and went back to his office. Sitting down at his laptop, he returned to the search he was doing on the Internet. He scrolled through a long list of recently released criminals, picking out those with lengthy and violent rap sheets and noting the address of their current residences, as well as their current place of employment, in case they needed to be bought.

"They all look pretty nasty, for humans." A smug voice said behind him.

"What?" Markus withdrew his gun and spun around. He found himself staring into the 13mm barrel of a Jackal. His eyes widened and he looked past the white gloves and red coat to the face of a man wearing a terribly sadistic grin. "It's you! You're the Vampire that works for Hellsing!"

"Well I'm glad _someone_ here knows me!"

"Yes well, very nice to meet you but I've got to go!"

In a surprising display, Markus's form blurred and went transparent. He then dove quickly through Alucard and the wall behind him, vanishing. Alucard stared at the empty chair in surprise.

"These Freaks keep turning up with one or another of a true Vampire's skills! I've never seen one that could pass through solid matter before." A grin slowly spread over the Vampire's lips and he chuckled deeply. "This should make for an interesting battle!" He turned to follow Markus through the wall.

He arrived into the spacious torture chamber on the other side. He just barely had enough time to process the scene before it changed. Markus was standing back against the far wall, with an animal between them being held to the floor by large, heavy chains.

When Alucard arrived, his motion caught the beast's attention and glowing red eyes lifted to focus on him, revealing Rifka's shadowed face. A loud, threatening growl lifted from her throat and she pulled at her bindings.

Markus hit a switch and the chains fell off. The beast gave a wild yowl and surged forward, arms extending to rake massive claws through the Vampire's body. Having already seen what she could do with those claws, Alucard deftly moved aside, but the cat-woman dug in her toe claws and turned with him like a homing missile.

"You're fast!" Alucard stared at her in surprise as he felt her hands tearing into him; saw her mouth opening and a jaw full of razor-sharp teeth lunging for his throat. He fell under her, staring up at the creature that had been an amusing young woman just a moment ago. He tried to touch her mind, but all he found was a black, writhing mass of seething anger and pain. Under the claws of the beast, his body was quickly reduced to a puddle of blood, guts, and torn cloth.

Markus turned the collar off. Rifka dropped to the floor like a stone, making a sick splash in the gore that had once been Alucard. He snapped his fingers and his guards dragged her back to her cell.


	3. She Cleans Up Well

The torture chamber was silent, and Markus slowly walked toward the puddle and tapped a boot in it. Then he laughed with sadistic glee. "Hah! I've killed the infamous 'last resort' of the Hellsing Organization! The way they've talked him up, I expected it to last longer!"

"You have the nerve to claim this was your work? I don't see any supernatural claws on _your_ hands!"

Alucard's voice came from nowhere and everywhere, and he sounded angry. Markus looked around sharply, trying to find the source. His eyes widened as he saw the puddle of ick begin to writhe and gather together. Markus whipped out his gun as he stumbled back quickly, and began to shoot at the mass, but the bullets only soared through and it kept rising. Before his eyes the disgusting mess assumed the shape of a man, and then Alucard's features, and even his clothing, returned in perfect order. He looked now as though nothing had happened.

"I'm starting to think I would have enjoyed meeting Mr. Bentomir. I admire his work." He looked sharply at Markus and pulled out his Jackal, aiming it at the Freak. "What a shame you had to go and _kill_ him."

Markus looked alarmed. It was a look many people adopted when the thirty-five pound Jackal was whipped around like it was a lady's handgun. "You're going to shoot me just for that?!"

Alucard maintained a scornful expression. "Do you honestly think your fate was based on your actions just now?"

"It's all about motivation, Alucard!"

Alucard opened fire and Markus staggered back, his arm hanging useless at his side. He grinned and shimmered into transparency, lifting a gun with his good arm. "I don't have a Master; do you see where I'm going? I have Bentomir's Beast, and she will kill anyone and anything that stands in my way – Even you!"

Alucard shot at him and noticed the bullets whizzing into the wall behind the vampire. Markus shot back and Alucard was surprised to feel them hitting his body. That was interesting. "But you're forgetting one thing, you fool! You've tried that already and here I am!"

"Bah! She's simply used to killing mere humans! I'm not worried. I'm sure if I make her try a little harder, she could take down a Vampire like you."

"You use her to kill humans?" Alucard stared at Markus, "You pathetic bastard! You can't kill them yourself?"

"Of course I can! But why should I when I can push a button and have an animal do the work for me? Have you heard her scream? It's so perfect! Bentomir once told me she'd been a singer before he started mucking around inside her DNA." Markus grinned, showing his sharp white teeth. "Oh, and don't get me started on the way she makes her _victims_ scream! I think myself a Maestro sometimes! It's all about the screaming, Alucard. It makes for wonderful motivation!"

A scream echoed through the compound. Markus leaned his head back and closed his eyes, smiling in ecstasy. Alucard tilted his head slightly. Rifka was already awake again; and back in her own mind. Her resilience was admirable, but he had to wonder – how many more times could she stand to wake up, covered in blood, without breaking? Or had she already broken?

"Now I know your motivation, Markus, but what's your goal? What's the point of it all?"

"When Bentomir was in charge I was his right hand man. It sounded important at the time, but I soon learned that I was just as much a lackey as any bottom feeder. I wanted more! And I took it! Now _I'm_ the one people invite to black market auctions, and what I like I get cheap. Hell! With this little remote, I could kill any businessman and usurp his entire company!"

"So you did all of this just to be the big dog in the sandbox?"

Markus narrowed his eyes at Alucard. "Refer to it as you will, but this particular sandbox is already filled with some dangerous dogs. Soon, they'll _all_ work for me!" While they talked, the Freak had backed his transparent frame against the wall. Now he gave the True Vampire a broad grin. "Ta for now, Alucard. I'm sure we'll meet again. Oh, and you can take Rifka, I know you will, but know you this! I _will_ come back to claim what's mine!" With that, he vanished through the wall. Alucard extended his senses, and was intrigued to find no trace of the Freak.

* * *

Going back through the compound, Alucard casually dispatched the ghouls on guard, littering the walls and floors with their white ashes. He strolled down the corridors until they were all destroyed, then made his way back to the holding cell. He radioed for animal control to collect the animal test subjects, and then slowly turned to look at Rifka through the bars.

She was staring at the blood covering her hands and clothes. He could tell she'd tried to wipe it off and clean her face, only to smear it even more. When she sensed him, she gazed back at him with her dark, haunted eyes. "I didn't kill you?"

"No, but I'll give you an A for effort. My blood looks good on you, by the way. It's quite fetching."

Her eyes were wide, at once revolted and also confused, and then she looked away and crossed her arms petulantly. He enjoyed how expressive her face was and watched her intently. "Did you kill _him?_"

"He ran away."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "That figures."

"Would you like to stay here and wait for his return, or do you want to come with me?" He couldn't help but grin as he watched her reactions to his bait. He loved how the anger flushed her cheeks and darkened her eyes. He loved how she bared her teeth at him and pulled at the chains to lunge at him.

"Come on! Let me out of here!"

"Do you promise not to tear me to pieces with your claws again, cat-woman?"

"Dammit! _Please!_"

Alucard grinned at her. "All right then, since you said the magic word." A wave of his fingers and the cell door sprung open, followed by the cuffs chaining her wrists to the wall. With a hiss of pain, Rifka rubbed at her wrists, looking down at her hands as she flexed them. She tried to stand, but her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor, growling in frustration.

"Dammit! Dammit, dammit…" When she looked up, it was to find Alucard crouching close to her. She jerked her head back with a sharp breath and her eyes widened with surprise, but she said nothing. She simply stared as the vampire drew her into his arms and lifted her from the floor.

On Integra's orders, Rifka was given a room to herself in the Hellsing mansion and allowed a week of rest. She kept to herself for the most part, with Walter being the only one to catch glimpses of her, other than Alucard of course. Over the course of a few days her appearance improved. She showered, brushed her hair, and wore the clothes they provided, which fit her rather well, displaying a figure more womanly and feminine than the one they saw on the video.

Walter reported the cat-woman's status each morning to Integra, along with all the small facts he learned about her from their brief encounters. Her food requests were either raw or rare large game, usually venison or beef, with wild rice and salad. Sometimes she opted for birds like duck or turkey. When she wanted a snack she asked him for cold cuts with bread and fruit.

"So," intoned Integra, "she has a sophisticated palate? That suggests a life before she was a slave. A rich life, would you say?"

"Yes, my lady. I would have to agree with you."

"Tell Peter to start a search for Missing Persons from the upper class."

"Tell him to look for singers and musicians, too," Interjected a familiar, disembodied voice.

"You have other information, Alucard?" Integra's eyes slowly moved about the room until she saw the glowing orbs on the wall where the monster was watching her. His grin appeared in the shadow next, like the Cheshire cat, and then he stepped forward into solid form.

"It's something the Freak had said; that she screamed on key. She may have been a singer before she was experimented on."

"Noted; Thank you, Al-" Integra stopped short. The vampire had gone. She rolled her eyes then dismissed Walter to carry out her orders.


	4. Getting Served

When Alucard peeked into Rifka's room, he saw the cat-woman was staring into the bedroom mirror with all the lights on, her neck craned to the side and her hands at her throat, poking and prodding at the collar.

"Still haven't found a way out of it yet?"

She turned her head sharply and bared her teeth at Alucard's mocking tone. She dropped her hands away from her throat. "I suppose if it were _your_ problem, you'd just have someone chop your head off and be done with it. That's not an option for me."

The Vampire grinned at her. "Want to test that theory?" He laughed at her reaction, which was to crouch defensively. "Just think! You've killed a lot of men over the years. Are you really going to tell me they all stood idly by?"

Rifka frowned at him. "I don't know what goes on after I transform… but I have a lot of scars I can't explain."

"Are any of them bullet wounds?"

"It's… possible…"

"Mortals don't tend to be impervious to bullets. They usually die."

She rounded on him with a growl. "Don't mock me dammit!"

** BANG!**

Rifka shouted sharply and clutched a hand to her shoulder as it exploded in a spray of blood and pain. Alucard lowered the small pistol as she staggered back into the wall and slid down to her knees.

"You fucking _bastard –_ Why?!"

"I want to see how you'll fix it."

"Is this how it's going to be? Did you free me from Markus just to toy with me yourself? I won't let you take his place!" She lumbered back to her feet and tried to charge him, but he caught her easily and pushed her away. Unbeknownst to her, her eyes and wound began to glow red and the wound slowly closed itself, leaving behind a small, red, circular scar. There was a soft, metallic thud as the bullet dropped onto the floor.

At the sound, Rifka frowned and became aware that she was no longer in pain. She lifted her hand away to see the healed flesh and backed away from Alucard, not noticing when she bumped into the wall. She stood in an astonished silence for a few moments, then she slowly looked up him. "I can use the energy from the pain to heal?"

"You can also think on your feet. That's a good quality to have."

And just like that, the surprise flashed to anger and she snarled at him again, arching her back. "Go to hell! I'd kill you right now if you weren't a Vampire!"

Alucard grinned and laughed, slowly walking closer to her. He saw her muscles tense, energy shifting to her powerful legs. If he were to strike at her, he had no doubt she would dodge him easily.

"That's why I like you, cat-woman. Say. Do cats ever trust, or is it just you?"

"_I_ am not _domesticated._ I may _owe_ you, but I don't have to trust you, or anyone!"

"Oh yes, thank you for reminding me…" He saw a flash of fury in her eyes. "I really only want to know one thing," He reached out slowly and ran his fingers along her collar seductively, smiling when he felt her shiver. "What happens if I push the blue button?" Deftly, he snatched the remote from her pocket.

"No! Give that back to me!" Rifka struggled with him, but the ancient Vampire of a towering 6'4 height quickly grabbed her wrists with one large hand and pinned the young woman of just 5'6 against the wall. He held her there and looked down at her thoughtfully.

"You would rather be indebted to me for an undetermined length of time, than end it this way, here and now?"

Rifka stared up at him furiously, thrashing in his grip and growling heatedly. "I want to be free of this collar and that box! I'm sick of being at the mercy of anyone who gets their hands on it!"

"But I could choose _anything_ if you deny me this. What if I decide the only way to beat a foe is to Embrace you? Or maybe I'd tell Integra that your unique method of killing is the only thing that will do? Would you rather I make those decisions for you?"

Rifka gawked openly for a moment before she gritted her teeth and slumped back against the wall. "Push the button."

Alucard's face fell. "Aw. Now I'm disappointed… You'd be even more powerful as a Vampire, you know…"

"PUSH IT!"

He watched her closely and pushed the button. Blue light shone in Rifka's eyes and she pressed back against the wall with a startled gasp. Alucard saw her nipples harden inside her shirt.

"So, it delivers pleasure through the collar, instead of pain?" He purred into her ear and grinned wickedly, brushing his fingertips over the small protrusions. "Is it a nice reward for good behavior?"

Her body shuddered under his touch and color rose in her cheeks. "_Freedom_ is a nice reward!" Her words were defiant, but her voice was husky. He noticed she was breathing faster.

"It would probably feel better if you just relaxed."

"I'll bloody relax when I damn well feel–" She broke off when he turned the dial a notch. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, but a low moan escaped her lips despite her efforts.

"What are you afraid of, Rifka? Can you honestly be afraid of the pleasure?"

She moaned like a wounded animal, and the look in her eyes was a remarkable combination of tortured curiosity. "What do you want…? Why are you doing this to me…?"

"I thought you might like a break from all that pain." He paused, still watching her, and spoke softly. "Am I wrong?"

Rifka lowered her head and looked away, breathing hard. "You're not… wrong…"

"Mm. Sweeter words were never spoken…" He turned the dial another notch and Rifka gave a throaty gasp, throwing her head back against the wall. Her cheeks flushed brightly and she started to struggle against him again, but he wouldn't budge. She began to pant, her fangs showing and her skin darkening. She was transforming!

"Now that's interesting. Do you know you're doing that?"

"I… can't keep her… in…" Rifka's voice had deepened to a growl.

He grinned excitedly. "Let's see what she wants, shall we?"

"I don't think that's – ah!" Alucard had turned the dial again and this time Rifka's body heaved back against the wall. She groaned sharply, her body heat beginning to warm the air around her. She growled again and it was his only warning before she lunged and sank her sharp teeth into his neck.

"What?" Alucard was startled enough to drop the remote in order to push her off of him. He leaned into her, gasping as he felt a wave of pleasure wash through him. "What have you done? Did you _infect_ me?!"

"What? You mean you feel it too? You know... I heard once that Cats are telepathic..." Rifka looked up at him, her eyes glittering, and she slowly wrapped her legs around his waist. He couldn't tell what was exciting him more, the pleasure or the vindictiveness in her blood-smeared grin. Either way, he clutched her tightly and pinned her to the wall with his body, his cold skin warming from her heat.

"Are you finally enjoying it now?"

"Your body's so cold, Vampire… but it seems I'm helping that!"

"You're dirty!"

"You started this!"

"I was curious!"

"Curiosity doesn't just kill _cats!"_

He felt a sudden urge and kissed her hard and deeply, pressing against her even more tightly. She struggled but then clutched at him and returned the kiss with a feral passion like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He could feel her body giving into him.

But more importantly, he felt his own body surrendering. He pulled away from her lips to groan. She tilted her head back, breathing hard through her mouth. "You wanted new experiences, Alucard. How's this one?"

"Is there any limit to your sass, cat-woman?"

"Maybe you're just not used to getting _served!"_

He growled and kissed her again, as much to shut her up as because she really seemed to be enjoying the situation, no matter how much lip she gave him. He focused on the controller with his mind, steadily turning it up until it reached its highest point, panting from the effort of holding Rifka's bucking and writhing body.

His hands wandered over her body as she heaved against him, pulling open her shirt and discarding it so he could fondle her tight breasts, which made her growl at him heatedly before she squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered in pleasure. Next went her pants, torn straight off her legs so that one hand could slide over her muscular thigh, while the other kept her arms pinned above her head.

She continued to struggle against his hold, as though testing him. He held her tighter and she hissed at him, arching her back, and then she moaned as another wave of pleasure flowed over her. Watching her, Alucard felt another desire building inside him and turned his head to brush his lips over her neck. He could feel her blood rushing just beneath the surface of her skin, teasing him, calling to him. With a moan, he sank his fangs into her neck. He had to close his eyes and hold her tightly just to restrain himself from drinking.

"Oh! OH GOD! AAH!" Rifka rolled her eyes back when he bit her, and barely heartbeats later she screamed as she shuddered heavily in his arms, clutching him tightly while her body went into the throes of a powerful climax. He groaned deeply and heaved against her, arching his back in ecstasy, truly surprised by how intense the pleasure was, all coming from a small, 3x2 box and a fifteen-inch metal band.

He gently dialed-down the controller, sighing unhappily as the pleasure slowly faded. Moaning weakly, Rifka sagged forward against his chest and he held her, feeling her breath gradually slowing down, her heartbeat calming. And then she was still. He held her calmly and watched her for a few moments before moving her hair away from her face.

She had passed out.


	5. Spicy And Refreshing!

With a chuckle, Alucard carried Rifka to the bed and laid her down. He moved to a chair and sat to contemplate what he had just experienced. He found his nerves still tingling with aftermath. He lounged comfortably and watched her sleep, resting his chin against his fingers. Did she sleep from exhaustion, or satisfaction? Had this energy been pent-up inside her because she'd refused to put her trust in men the likes of Bentomir and Markus? She'd decided to trust him, so what did that mean for the cat-woman?

Her blood hadn't tasted like a human virgin's, but he still felt refreshed, exhilarated. To him that was proof enough. He felt quite high, to be truthful. He took advantage of the peace to look Rifka over. Her lean frame seemed softer now, and he watched her smooth, toned stomach rise and fall as she breathed.

There were old bruises and scars on her skin, some from knives, others from bullets, and several were caused by a whip. There was clear evidence of harsh treatment and frequent torture, but in spite of that there was still healthy inner glow to her. Was that what made her so warm? What caused it? Was she both a mutant, and something else? He thought that could be very likely. He'd fought werewolves before, but she didn't seem to fit their concept.

After five, or maybe ten minutes, Rifka stirred and rolled over onto her side, unfurling in a long, luxurious stretch. Alucard smiled and watched her eyes open. She sat up and slowly and ran her fingers through her hair. It had a proper shine to it now, he realized, since she had been able to wash and brush it regularly. He hadn't noticed before.

"So, that's what the blue button does."

"Yes." She wasn't looking at him, and he had anticipated one of her antagonistic replies. The woman sitting on his bed seemed an entirely different person.

"You've tasted my blood." He grinned at her. "Did you like it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. Cats don't have a lot of taste buds."

He stared. Rifka's voice was smooth and casual, almost detached. He even found it quite sexy. Apparently it was true what young men said about uptight women! They really do just need a good lay!

"The blood of a True vampire, even the slightest amount, turns humans into slaves."

"Oh." Rifka looked thoughtful.

"The larger cats can survive on fresh blood, too. Isn't that right?"

She blinked and looked at him. "Yes, that's true. Is that why I'm not affected; because I'm like you… in a way?"

She was an insightful creature when she wasn't distracted by her temper. "It's possible."

"Did you like mine?"

Surprised again! She seemed to have gotten into his head, asking him questions about things no one else would have wanted to hear his opinion on. "It was different; like having curry one night after a long life of English cuisine."

"So you think I'm spicy and refreshing?" She looked at him with a downright playful smile.

He laughed in surprise and relief. _There_ was the feistiness that had been missing from this conversation! "Are you feeling back to normal now? I'd gotten used to being sassed!"

"I don't know what normal is for me." Rifka looked at her hands. "I hope this is normal; this calm place I'm in now." She touched her neck, then her biceps and sides, all the while looking absorbed in her thoughts.

He understood what she was doing. "You've relaxed."

She heaved a loud sigh of affirmation, falling back on to the bed. "I'd forgotten what it feels like, I've been so tense for so long."

"It seems like I've done you another favor."

She looked at him and sat up sharply, her eyes narrowing. He liked the way color rose on her tanned cheeks when she got angry, the way it darkened the color of her eyes. She cut a hand through the air. "We're _even_!"

He changed the subject. "You already know that pain causes you to transform. I think you have the power to control that, and I think you always had, but you were never given the chance."

"That makes sense, I guess. My senses have always been flooded with pain from the highest setting. I could never adapt to that. If it built up gradually it would probably be easy. Now that I'm out of that place, I can practice." She got up and moved toward the window, looking out at the night. "I want control of my Beast. She's mine, and she shouldn't be at the mercy of anyone that comes across that damned box!" She clenched a fist.

"By the way, I think I should tell you. Markus was wrong."

Her big brown eyes were quizzical when she looked over her shoulder at him, at a loss to see what he was talking about, "Wrong about what?"

"He was wrong about using the blue button to make you beg him for sex. You never once begged me to continue. Quite the opposite, really, you were very resistant, right up till the end. I hope you still found it pleasing..."

She flushed darkly, and he couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. "I didn't realize that tasting your blood would connect us like that. Though, I've always been of the opinion that pleasure is a thing to share…" She trailed off abruptly, as though realizing she may have said too much.

When she turned away from him, he watched her closely. Even naked, her thoughts and intentions were a mystery to him. "You're strong enough to fight the Beast, we both know that. You've felt the Blue button on its highest setting, are you willing to withstand the Red one?"

He met her gaze and noticed how her dark eyes seemed both pensive and haunted, and how they added another dimension to her soulful face. It was as though she were constantly troubled by her thoughts. She looked as though she could see right into his core, and for a moment he thought he could feel it.

She drew him out of his thoughts when she finally responded to his challenge. "Pain means very little to you, Alucard… but if you controlled it for me, and talked me through it, I think I could learn to control my reaction to it."

He couldn't help but to grin at her. "Does this mean I passed your test, cat-woman? Were you hoping I would?"

"I _need_ someone I can trust. It's a fact I'm all too aware of."

She didn't deny that she'd been testing him. She'd needed to know, ever since he'd first whispered to her in her cell, if he would be the one to free her, to help her, to finally give her the one thing keeping her from success.

She'd needed assurance.

He considered her seriously, and at once knew she would have gladly died trying on her own, and may have planned to so before he'd shown up. She'd suddenly seen that death was unnecessary…

She moved away from the window and walked over to his chair, sitting down in front of him. Her breath was slow and steady. He sat up and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Markus always turned the dial straight to the highest setting. If you go slowly…"

"Yes. I understand."


	6. Lonely Hearts

The only sound in the room was the deep, ragged pants of someone under a lot of stress. A gloved hand was slowly turning the dial on the controller, and the pointer was nearing the last notch. Rifka's eyes glowed, first red, and then white, casting shadows across her face as the color brightened. Soon the dial could turn no further, and Alucard set it down.

"Do you have control?"

Rifka's gave him a throaty growl, and he found the way her dark eyes glittered at him oddly arousing. "I have control!" The words came out a seething snarl, a great deal of her energy going into resisting the pain. She groaned and shuddered then, closing her eyes tightly.

"You're doing amazingly well, Catwoman. Maybe you weren't completely overcome by the Beast, after all."

She hissed and shuddered, shaking herself off and trying to reconstruct her mental defenses against the pain. "What are you talking about?"

"Maybe you've been _letting_ the Beast take over!"

Rifka's temper flared, her lips sliding back over her fangs in a vicious snarl. "What purpose would that serve? Killing without remorse? Waking up with no memory and therefore no guilt?"

"Aren't those the perfect reasons?"

With a heated roar Rifka rose to her feet swiftly, stalking about the room in an effort to expel the energy flooding into her created by her anger. As she spoke, her hands whipped through the air in expressive sweeps made vicious by her emotions. "Why should I give up myself for _that?_ Who says I need the Beast to do my dirty work?!"

"Oho." Alucard regarded her favorably, and Rifka curled her lip at him, her face flushed and her eyes darkening. She threw her arms out to the sides.

"I'm as much a beast as she is! The only difference being that _I_ have a mind to _pick_ my battles with! _She_ goes blind with pain and attacks anything within reach, like a cornered _animal._ _**I**_ would attack my _antagonist!"_

"How do you explain how easily you've come to control her, then, Catwoman?"

Her spine straightened and she glared at him; not with the beast's blind wrath, but with the controlled ire of a proud woman. An expression he was quite familiar with, from Integra. "I asked you to introduce the pain slowly so I could adapt to it and widen my threshold. Though it is burning through my stamina quickly, I can stand here under the full strength of that dial and not lose myself to the creature inside me. What once was an unbearable agony can now be shut away – ignored until I must address it."

He smiled at her. "Clever."

"And I should address it soon, Alucard…" She reached out to press her hand against the wall, a shudder running through her. She closed her eyes, and had to force herself to open them again. "Make that 'now'…"

He didn't miss the change in her tone. "Ah." He slowly turned off the controller and watcher her drop to the floor with a gasped curse. She became human again, her chest heaving and her muscles trembling. She continued to curse breathlessly, curling into a tight ball and flexing her hands. "There's really no name for what you are, is there?" He asked with a regretful tone.

She ran her shaking hands over her hair, pushing it back from her face and smoothing it down before looking him in the eye. The shadows under her eyes were back, but he could still see some fire in the brown depths. Did she know how attractive she was, all breathless and guarded like she was now?

"You mean, besides 'mutant'? I suppose not. I've heard that the Werewolves are born, not created in labs… I've heard of Changelings before but never seen one… They're probably just myths. Me? All I can honestly do is heal myself, and take the form of something between a human and an animal. No… I don't know what to call that."

She pushed herself up onto her hands, and he could tell she wouldn't be able to stand. Silently, he got to his feet and went to her. He gathered her in his arms just as the exhaustion caught up to her and she collapsed against him. "Is it important to you? Fitting in?" He held her close, wanting to feel her heart beating against his chest again.

He was surprised when she leaned into him willingly. "It can be… A heart can die from loneliness." She looked up at his face again and he stared into her sad, brown eyes, marveling again at how beautiful the haunted look made her.

"I don't remember when my heart beast last, but you can stay here. If anything, I bet Integra would enjoy trying to find your intended classification. It has to be documented somewhere."

"Maybe back in Russia…"

"That's certainly a logical place to start."

"If you find Vandella's original notes, I'm sure he mentioned what he meant to call me."

"You believe he was a thorough note-keeper, then?"

"Yes, very extremely so, from what I remember." She sighed and let her head fall limply against his shoulder. "Alucard… Please… I need to rest."

He grinned at her words and couldn't help it; he had to tease her again. "You said 'please' again…"

She was too tired to give him much of a reaction. She stared up at him, her haunted eyes blank. "Yes. I did."

"For someone that gives so much sass, you really don't like being teased, do you?"

"Free me from my collar and try me after that."

"It's a deal."

He lifted her off her feet as he stood up, and brought her back to the bed where he gently laid her down. Her eyes had slid closed along the way, and he drew the blankets over her figure, pausing with his face close to hers. After a moment of staring down at her thoughtfully, he reached out to touch her face. Blinking in surprise, he looked at his hand.

"What is this feeling, you odd, intriguing creature? I've never felt this… and yet… Maybe I have…" He trailed off, gazing at the sleeping woman for just a moment longer, and then he vanished from the room.

* * *

Integra looked up when she sensed the Monster join her in her office. "Well, Alucard? What have you learned about our guest tonight?"

"She's a mutant, my Master; Mostly human, almost something else. She can draw power from pain to heal her wounds, and to transform into… a hybrid creature of sorts. I've been working with her, and if she keeps improving she should soon be able to shift at will."

"You've _what?!"_

Alucard grinned at the woman's exclamation. "You know I've never approved of inhibitions. I desired to free her from hers, but since we couldn't figure out how to get her collar off, I settled for teaching her control instead."

Integra stared. Was it her imagination, or did Alucard seem rather taken with the creature in her guest wing? "Not a Freak beyond a doubt?"

"Not even slightly, my Master. She's unlike any magical or man-made beast we've encountered to date. Not Werewolf, not Freak and not Vampire. All she knows for sure is that the man who collared her mixed her DNA with that of a wild Jaguar."

"Does she have any idea where we can find information on that operation?"

Alucard gave a deep chuckle. "Russia."

Integra sighed with irritation and pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "Oh yes, she's bloody brilliant." She shook her head. "Is there anything _else?_"

"Only one other thing," Alucard was turning to leave when she asked, and he paused, his creepiest grin forming across his face. "She's also a virgin."

Integra's eyes flew open, but all that remained of the Monster was his wicked, cackling laughter.


	7. Unwanted Memories

The Hellsing research team was hard at work, scouring Russia for leads on Rifka's creation. Field agents were reporting in every week, many of them forced to search from city to city, looking for anyone that had seen or heard of compounds similar to the one Alucard had found Rifka in, others with local police about missing musicians or young women from upper class families.

The report the troops had was little more than what Rifka had told Integra. She was sure that the building where Alucard had found her had been built by Marcus and his men to be an exact duplicate of the original built by Bentomir. The information was somewhat useful. All Rifka had to do now was remember where in Russia it was.

* * *

Sitting in her guest quarters, Rifka had tired of meditating and searching her memory for answers. Crossing to the dressing table, she opened a short jar of salve, and then slowly untied the sash holding closed her short, silk robe. She let it slide down her shoulders to the crooks of her elbows and looked at her body's reflection in the mirror, then gently began applying the salve to her scars, gazing at them thoughtfully.

"They do appear to be fading, if that's what you were asking yourself, Catwoman."

"It's that obvious, huh?" Undisturbed by her sudden lack of privacy, Rifka continued to apply the balm to the bright red scar on her shoulder from where he had shot her the other day. Her dark eyes shifted upward to watch the tall vampire form behind her.

She paused to consider him. His long red coat was missing. As were his hat, gloves, and tinted shades. His tall, lean frame remained clothed in a white dress shirt and black slacks tucked into tall black boots. His unruly mane of black hair hung straight around his face and shoulders, shining with health.

After a moment of staring at him, she smiled. "All right, I'll admit it. I wasn't expecting that."

He laughed, drawing closer. "I figured I could improve upon my appearance, since you seemed to want to improve your own."

"It's true… is it vain of me?" Rifka's gaze returned to her body, and she resumed smoothing the cream over another scar, a long ugly one running down the back of her arm. "Technically, I'm simply healing the new skin. The improvement on my appearance is simply a bonus."

"Of course,"

"Honestly, I would just like to be able to move around again without feeling the scar tissue pull suddenly. Softening it with lotion helps that."

"Did you become obsessed with grooming after your transformation? Or were you like this before?"

Her eyes glinted at him as they cut back up to his reflection. Her mouth twisted to the side, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I don't know."

The deadpan finality of her tone made him throw his head back and laugh. She smiled, going back to her "obsessive grooming" as she listened to him, drawing her robe back up over her shoulders and propping up a foot on her chair to work on what appeared to be a rather old bullet wound in her thigh. Judging from the rest of her wounds, it appeared to him to be her first, as or possibly even _older_ than the scar on her eyebrow.

"Are you itching to ask me something, Vampire?"

The sass seemed to be a meter for them both, allowing him to judge just how open to his presence she was feeling. The sassier she was, the more welcome he was. He stepped closer, and slowly slid his fingertips over the old scar. She didn't jerk away. In fact, she turned to look up at his face curiously. It was exactly what he had wanted her to do.

He took her chin and turned her head so he could look at the scar through her eyebrow. "The bullets and whips and jagged cuts I understand. This scar is so much cleaner than the rest. How did you get this one?"

She shrugged. "As far as I know, I've always had it. Maybe it was a childhood accident – I don't remember."

She was blushing slightly under his scrutiny, but withstood it patiently until he released her. She resumed her work, rubbing cream over a group of short, thin scars on her right ankle that looked like claw marks. Farther up her calf were the unmistakable remnants of a vicious dog bite.

She saw him looking and nodded. "Those really are what they look like. Bentomir tested me against trained guard dogs, fighting dogs, hunting dogs. At first it was just one on one, and then it was whole packs of them. If they were looking for my limit, they didn't find it. I killed every single one of them."

He saw her pause and shudder, her expression very briefly one of revulsion. "Fucking _dogs…_" She shook her head and put the lid back on the jar, heading toward the wardrobe. Suddenly she seemed done fussing over her scars. He did not recall having seen her so agitated without provocation before.

"You remembered something, didn't you? What was it? Was it something about the dogs?"

She was picking out a neat brown suit made of butter-soft leather. It consisted of three pieces: pants, vest, and jacket, which she paired with a white silk blouse. From a drawer she selected underwear and started to get dressed. She was stalling, but as she adjusted herself in the bra he found that she was doing it in a way that he… rather didn't mind… at all…

"Are you enjoying wearing clean clothes?" He asked her with an amused smile.

"Oh god yes, you don't how much." She ran her hands over the silk shirt, caressing it against her skin, breathing deeply into the leather.

Looking at her, dressed that way, it wasn't difficult at all to picture her in one of the upper class families. He tilted his head to the side. "Do you remember anything, from before you were Bentomir's pet Monster?"

"I hated the dogs." She perched on a stool beside an assortment boots, starting to pull on a pair. She was keeping her hands busy, and looking down into dark corners of the closet. "I think it's possible that I've always hated dogs, just because of how strong my response is. They stink, they're dirty, they're loud, and—"

"And they do anything that a human tells them to? All the things a cat is not?"

Rifka made a face. She didn't seem proud of what they had learned. "Bentomir ordered the dogs to hunt me, and ordered me to run. This was just after he had played God. I hadn't even gotten used to what he'd done to me. To this day I have no idea what he was looking for. I ran, the dogs chased, and eventually they cornered me. Their master told them not to attack, but I guess it was too tempting. One of them grabbed hold of my leg, and I could see the rest were about to attack."

She folded her arms across her lap, and the sad, distant look on her face reminded Alucard that though a killer she might be, she truly was very unwilling. He watched her silently, letting her continue when she felt comfortable.

"When Bentomir and the rest of the hunting party caught up to us, I had killed all five dogs and their master. I had torn them all into pieces. I remember it so clearly because Bentomir sounded so proud of me. 'Look what she's done!' He told them. 'I see what she's done!' The other man with him was mad. 'That's five thousand pounds wasted!' I think he meant the dogs. Bentomir didn't care. He was looking at me like a proud papa. 'She's marvelous!' He said."

She looked at Alucard, staring at him and shaking her head. "I didn't feel marvelous, Alucard. They found me like you found me. All huddled up against the wall, covered in blood… exhausted and… and frightened."

He gave her brownie points for being willing to admit to her fear. He believed he was starting to get to know this mysterious, secretive woman, though he did not believe for a minute that she didn't remember her life before her transformation.

"So, before Bentomir transformed you, you were a singer from a family of status. You might have had a cat, absolutely no dogs, and your family didn't hunt. Does that sound about right?"

Rifka thought about it for a moment; tried it on in her mind. She nodded as she got to her feet. "Yes, I suppose it does." Crossing back to the dressing table, she picked up her brush and started to tame her long hair, parting it and winding it into two long, sleek braids. "I haven't been able to remember anything else about Bentomir's original site, though. I remember the day I got there, and I remember how… But I didn't see anything."

"You remember _how_ you got there?" Alucard leaned in closer to her. It was the first time she'd used the word 'remember'. He believed they were making progress.

"I was in a car, dressed for a performance. I don't know if I was leaving or coming home. It was a sunny day, hot; a good day to be inside at a show. The car stopped abruptly. We all started asking the driver if everything was all right… Then the doors tore off and these… those _things_ the Freaks keep with them, they pulled me out and dragged me away. I saw them pile into the car… and then I heard nothing but screaming."

She shuddered and looked away. "I don't remember who they were. They may have been my family."

He reached out and caressed a hand over the back of her head. "Tell me the rest."

"They pushed me into a truck filled with a group of other girls, all crying and frightened, just like I was. We were then taken out of the city, and a gas flooded the truck, making us all fall asleep. When we woke up, we were each in a cage of our own. Very similar to the way you found me at Marcus' place."

Alucard watched her face. "I found no other girls at Marcus' compound. What happened to them?"

Rifka sighed. "I was not Bentomir's first experiment. I was only the first that didn't die."

"Why only choose girls? Wouldn't men have been stronger?"

She glanced at him. "I suppose he _preferred_ girls."

Alucard sat back slightly, raising his eyebrows at her tone and implication. "Ah. You were not meant just for protection, then? Pleasure also?"

"I had to listen to all of it… there was no escaping what was happening there. I did not want… _any_ of it… I would have rather died! I fought so hard when he decided it was my turn… I put my mark on every single person I could get my hands on. And so I… I guess I impressed him…" Her lip was curling with revulsion. "And so, all because of my spirit… instead of being raped first, he took me to the chamber where he… Where he did _this_ to me instead! That demented fucking monster!" She lifted her hands, looking at the claws on the tips of her fingernails. Tears suddenly flooded from her eyes and she looked at him with the gaze of a wounded animal.

"You're a bastard, Alucard! I didn't _want_ these memories back!" She pushed away from the table and ran from the room.

"I'm a bastard… but _he's_ a monster?" Alucard watched her go, looking curious.

* * *

"Yes, that _is_ a lot of helpful information, Alucard." Integra's voice held the slightest note of approval. "Where is the girl now?"

"Out on the grounds, Sir," said Walter, "we found her in one of the gardens, watching the fountain. We decided not to disturb her."

"That's fine. Keep an eye on her but leave her alone." Integra turned to her officers that were standing by. "Narrow down your search. It will be easier to find reports of a whole family of aristocrats gone missing. Their car left in the street. Something had to happen to their estate if there was no one left alive. Even if there is an heir, even better, for there will be documents about how and why they inherited, and more importantly, _where._ Go!"

Alucard and Walter watched Integra at her desk while the officers filed out of the room behind them. She spent a minute sorting a stack of papers before looking up at them. Her eyes were sharp behind her glasses. "Do take care _not_ to drive her insane, Alucard. She _is_ quite dangerous; even to you, as I recall."

The Vampire stifled a slight shiver when he recalled the pain of Rifka's claws. She had been so vicious and thorough with her brain scrambled by pain… What could she do to him with a clear mind? "Yes, my Master." He bowed his head, and faded from the room.

"Any orders for me, Sir?" Walter asked of her.

She gazed at him thoughtfully. "Reach out to her, Walter. Bring her one of the meals she prefers, and give her someone else to talk to than that creature. Maybe we can show her she can still be human."

"It would be a pleasure." Bowing smartly at the waist, Walter turned and headed to the kitchens.

Integra sat in her office, letting the silence sink in. She would continue the search for Bentomir's notes. She had to. It wasn't so important anymore to figure out what Rifka really was, but she still had to make sure Marcus did not try to duplicate the mad man's experiments. This could not be allowed to happen again.


	8. An Irreplaceable Gift

Walter found Rifka still lying in the grass beside the fountain, staring up at the sky. She looked like she was in a better mood, possibly more bored now than depressed. With a polite smile, Walter bowed to her and offered her a covered silver dish, when he set beside her on the fountain's wall.

Rifka watched him curiously, slowly sitting up. She lifted the cover, revealing a dark meat in a thick, hearty curry sauce, poured over a mound of fluffy white rice. Steam rose from the food and she pressed a hand to her stomach when it growled in response. She looked up at Walter. He offered her a fork.

"I think that's what I needed," she told him after she had practically cleared the plate, "that was divine, Walter. I feel a little better now."

He bowed again, pleased. "I hoped I had guessed correctly."

She nodded, moving to sit comfortably with the wall behind her. "Is your mission accomplished, then?" Her dark eyes were still gazing out over the perfectly manicured fields.

He glanced at her thoughtfully, surprised by the question. He hadn't expected her to be so casual about their careful handling of her. "Yes, My Lady… The first part of my mission has been accomplished, and successfully, but I am not quite finished."

"What's the next part?"

"I am to provide you with a less antagonistic conversation partner."

A smile spread over her face, lightening her expression and caused the darkness that seemed to surround her to recede. She began to laugh, and Walter couldn't help but smile at her as she did. She started getting to her feet, and he put his hand out to her. She considered him for a moment before she accepted his hand.

"Shall we go inside?" He asked her. She nodded, and picked up the plate.

"All right, Walter. Maybe we can find something interesting to do."

* * *

A brief pit-stop in the kitchens left the old plate with the staff, and they left with a basket of fresh bread and cheese. Rifka sank her teeth into a soft, ripe peach, humming happily and closing her eyes as she followed Walter around the castle. She didn't know where they were going, but right now, she didn't really care. She was well distracted.

Right up until she heard the music.

Her eyes opened and she searched for the source. It was muffled, but with her altered hearing she could tell it was close by. She watched as Walter opened a pair of French doors and revealed a splendid music room.

A young woman was at the piano, her back to them, playing something beautiful. She was dressed in a long burgundy skirt and a crisp white blouse, her copper-red hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head.

Rifka stared from the doorway. Walter used his superior Butler skills to meld into the background, watching her closely as he had been ordered to do. There was an odd expression on the dark-haired woman's face; she seemed uncertain… but also thoughtful. The woman gave them a friendly smile from the piano.

"I… I think I know this song…" Rifka shook her head and slowly walked into the music room. Beside the piano was a microphone, but there were other instruments lined up around the piano, including a rhythm guitar, a violin, a flute and even a cello.

Given what Alucard had reported, Walter expected Rifka to move toward the microphone to sing, and was surprised when she picked up the guitar and sat down on the chair it had been resting on. The expression on her face changed to something serene and relaxed, and her fingers moved over the chords, effortlessly joining the piano.

He couldn't hear her, but Walter could see her lips were moving as she played, her eyes lowered, her mind somewhere else completely. At the end of the song she lifted the guitar and gazed at it, still lost in thought. The pianist rose and bowed to her, getting a brief glance and a nod in return before Rifka was once more taken in by her instrument.

The redhead made as though to leave the room and Walter stepped out with her.

"Well?" He asked her, expectantly.

"She's definitely a classically trained mezzo-soprano, and I don't need to speak Russian to know she has perfect pitch. I don't know if she's realized it yet, but she never missed a single note."

Walter nodded and thanked the woman, stepping aside to allow her to leave down the hallway. He looked at Rifka for a moment before walking over to her. He bowed and waited for her attention.

"I remember this…" Rifka murmured as she lifted her head to look up at him, "I remember I loved this… the sound of a guitar. I feel… I feel as though my life surrounded it." She sighed, looking away. "My life before I was taken. Before my parents were murdered by the… the ghouls. We were all on our way home from the opera house; I had just been in a grand performance, my first big show. It would have made all the difference in my future. If I could handle being on a stage that big… it would have started my career."

"How intriguing! What sort of career?"

"Soloist: guitar and voice." She smiled, almost shyly. "I sing, too."

"You're very full of surprises, my lady."

"And you're very full of compliments, Walter." She smiled again, and her cheeks blushed pink. Walter could see the youthful aristocrat now, highborn and wealthy but not spoiled, and talented. Her parents must have been very proud of their daughter, whoever they were.

"Do you remember anything else about your music? Would you like to continue to play?"

It was remarkable, how guarded she seemed to become at what he had assumed would be an innocent question. He didn't sweat though – he'd been subjected to many steely gazes in his time, and while Rifka's fathomless, dark brown gaze certainly had a knack for piercing your heart or drawing you into the abyss, right now she seemed somewhere in between.

And then, in the next beating of his heart, her expression shifted. She smiled a little, lowering her gaze to the guitar again. "I think I remember the song I was going to perform at the opera house."

Walter smiled again. "I would very much like to hear it, my Lady."

She nodded softly and he drew back, moving one of the other instruments and taking a seat. Rifka lowered her head, closed her eyes, and then gently began to strum the chords to life. She seemed to lure him in with the first few notes, and then she opened her eyes, and speared him with her haunting gaze.

"_I can feel the knife carving… your love into my heart…_

_You promised you wouldn't harm a hair_

_On this frail body no, that's not fair_

_But how can I trust you?_

_How can I trust you…?_

_With my heart, in your hands, closing your grip_

_I'm so afraid that you'll leave me cold_

_With my heart, in your hands, closing your grip..."_

_(Dommin, My Heart, Your Hands (abridged lyrics)_

A silence fell as the last note faded into the walls of the music room. Walter was briefly stunned. He had already figured the girl possessed a wide emotional range, but it was quite a different thing to have such emotion be sung to him with unwavering clarity. He snapped out of his daze and applauded.

"That was marvelous, Lady Rifka. Your voice is stunning!"

Rifka blushed under his praise and leaned her head forward, letting her hair hide her eyes.

"I may even have to change your nickname, Catwoman."

Walter and Rifka both looked up in surprise when Alucard entered the music room, by way of the wall to their left. The pleased blush on Rifka's cheeks was quite fetching; it put a glow in her chocolate-brown eyes that he found very…

"Oh really…?" Rifka's voice was terse, interrupting his thoughts. Her jaw tightened. Walter saw her shoulders drawing back as well. "And what would you change it to?"

The Vampire's imposing figure loomed silently over Rifka, his gloved hand gently lifting her chin. From behind his yellow shades he stared into her eyes, and his fingertips gently caressed down her throat and along the rim of her collar, which she had cleverly hidden behind the lapels of her blouse.

"_Enchantress_…" He purred the word at her and smiled when she shivered and swallowed.

"Alucard,"

Walter had spoken the name firmly, almost seeming to turn it into a command; Almost. Still, it was enough to distract him from his torment of the pretty maiden, and he looked over at his old friend. It was almost as though a silent conversation was held between them, at the end of which Alucard turned his attention back to Rifka. He bent down, bringing his lips to her ear.

"My master ordered me not to drive you insane… but I see no such order was given to you, my Enchantress. I think I now know why Lord Vandella wanted you so badly… He must have been at the Opera House that day." Smiling, Alucard slipped away from her, and vanished through the floor.

Rifka's face flushed dark and the tremor in her hand almost made her drop the guitar. She took a moment to get herself back under control, and Walter pretended not to notice how flustered she was. He didn't look over at her until she abruptly stood.

"I – I think I'd like to go back to my room now, Walter. Can…" she paused, glancing up at him uncertainly, "can I keep this?" She indicated the guitar, her eyes hopeful.

He smiled at her. "I'm sure Sir Integra would have no objections to letting you keep the guitar. Certainly not if it helps so well with your… therapy…" For a moment he worried that she would consider the statement insensitive, but then remembered that she was fully aware of, and rather grounded about, her situation.

"It does. I think music is what I have been missing. I haven't sung anything since he changed me… probably because I thought I couldn't." Her hand slid meaningfully over her throat.

"And how do you feel now?" Walter went to the door and motioned Rifka out into the hallway. He walked with her back to her room in the guest wing.

Rifka was quiet for a moment, gazing off into the distance somewhere. Walter took advantage of her distraction to study her closely. "I feel relieved, to be honest. It's wonderful, Walter, to know that there's something else he never managed to take from me. You've given me an irreplaceable gift. Thank you…"

Walter opened the door to her room and bowed. "It was my simple pleasure, My Lady…"

"Even so," Rifka murmured as she stepped inside. She glanced back at him, her voice softening, "it's still very complicated for me. Goodnight, Walter."

"Goodnight, Miss Rifka."

Walter bowed again, but watched as Rifka closed the door, able to catch a glimpse of her face before she turned away. He was happy to note that she seemed thoughtful now, instead of sad.


End file.
